CHILDLESS 
HOME 



DRAMA 

IN FOUR ACTS 

Hy Charles Ketchum 






CHILDLESS 
HOME 



DRAMA 

IN FOUR ACTS 

Uy Charles Ketchiim 






FROM THE PRESS OF 

KINNEY PRINTING COMPANY 

SAN DIEGO, CALIF. 



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\"^^^' 



Copyright 19)3 by^Charles Ketchum 



TMP96-006530 



OLD 3370U 



A CHILDLESS HOME 



All rights of "A Childless Home" are reserved by the author, from whom 
permission must be secured. 



CHARACTERS 

Silas Barton, Old Retired Gentleman. 

William Lawrence, Mature Man, son-in-law of Old 
Retired Gentleman. 

Henry Kamon, Husband to Niece of Old Retired 
Gentleman. 

Richard Rich, Gentleman Bachelor. 

Albert White, Philanthropist. 

Harold James, Young man, his brother-in-law. 

John Club, City Policeman. 

James Grass, Park Policeman. 

Sam Samp, Colored Servant. 

Sing, Chinese Servant. 

MiKO, Japanese Servant. 

Maymie Kamon, Society Lady, wife of Henry Kamon. 

Mrs. Spinks, Finished Society Lady. 

Louise Lawrence, Cousin to Maymie Kamon. 

Margaret White, Clairvoyant. 

Children, In plain costumes, five or more from six 
years up. 

One Japanese, or more ; one Chinese, or more ; one 
Hindoo, or more; one Mexican, or more; one Indian, 
or more ; one negro, or more. 

Supernumeraries, twelve or more, to appear in last 
act. 



SCENE PLOT 

Act I. 

Scene— Time, afternoon. Interior backing, a par- 
lor in middle-class house. 

Act II. 
Scene — A street adjoining a park. Time, early 
evening. 

Act III. 

Scene — Parlor well furnished. Interior backing. 
Time, early evening. 

Act IV. 
Scene — Plain parlor. Time, afternoon. 



SYNOPSIS 



Act 1. Drawing room of a New England home; 
ten years pxevious; sad parting. 

Act 2. On a street in California, early evening, 
present time. No place for children. 

Act 3. An aristocratic home in the evening, pres- 
ent time in California. 

Act 4. A home ten years in the future, no style, 
no poverty, in the afternoon. 

Time — Ten years previous in Act 1. Present time 
in Acts 2 and 3. Ten years in the future in Act 4. 

Location — Act 1, State of Maine ; Acts 2, 3, and 4, 
California. 

Time of Playing — Two Hours. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Silas Barton — Appears only in Act 1, an old re- 
spectable gentleman. 

William Lawrence — A nice appearing man, about 
twenty-five years old in Act 1. in Act 2 ten years 
older with good appearance. 

Henry Kamon — In Act 1, very swell appearance as 
a newly married man. In Act 3, a fashionable club 
man that cares for no one but himself. 

Richard Rich — In Act 2 only, a fine club man on 
his way to the club. 

Albert White — Philanthropist, appears in Act 4. 
Nice appearance, about forty. 

Harold James — Young man, about twenty, nice 
appearance, appears in Act 4. 

Sam Samp — Colored servant, appears in Act 3, 
plain dress, age about thirty. 

Sing — Chinese servant in Act 3 only. 

MiKO — Japanese servant, indoor costume, Act 3 
only. 

Maymie Kamon — In Act 1 dressed as a bride, 
twenty years of age, going on a journey, very inno- 
cent, happy and nice appearing. In Act 3 every ap- 
pearance of style, but despondent to start with, but 
a reckless, boisterous one to finish. 

Mrs. Spink — Cold and conceitedly, very selfish, 
well dressed, in Act 3 only. 

Louise Lawrence — Act 1, young married woman, 
twenty years old, nice but not too well dressed. Act 
2, nice appearance and a mother with a lot of children. 

Margaret White — In Act 4 only. In plain house- 
dress, wears fancy skull cap and has clairvoyant 
powers. 

All the following in Act 4 only : 

Japanese — A small man, dressed in military uni- 
form with sword, very dignified. If there are more 
Japanese they are to be plain military men. 



6 

Chinese — Well dressed in their costume and very 
important, if more they need not be so important. 

Hindoo — A tall man, fancy dressed in their costume 
with a big turban, if more they are to be plainer. 

Mexican — A vigorous character, dressed in old 
Mexican costume, with a big knife, if more to be less 
important. 

Negro — Dressed in some military costume, very im- 
portant in appearance, if more negroes they may be 
less important. 

Children — In Act 2, to be well dressed, but plain- 
ly, in summer costume, but very tired. In Act 4, 
about the same dress, but very happy. 

The characters to represent the remnant of the 
white race may be swell-dressed society people, men 
and women, dudes, cripples, old people, sporting men, 
with their costumes on and with golf sticks, foot- 
balls, baseball equipments and as many more imple- 
ments as may be wanted. One old soldier for rear 
guard with the flag tied up with a piece of crepe. 

PROPERTIES 

Act 1 — Furnishings of a good New England home, 
in the parlor, piano, of course. 

Act 2. — A piece of hose. 

Act 3. — Monkey, parrot, snake, poodle dog, guinea 
pig, cat, white mice, pug dog, etc., etc., bottles of 
drink, cigarettes, swords, boxing gloves, big wooden 
razor, two dummy heads, two pieces of board two 
feet wide and two feet long, two inches thick at one 
side and one-half inch at the other, so that the dummy 
heads will roll off when placed upon them and ap- 
pear still alive. A gallows on castors, with a dummy 
negro hung up. 

Act 4. — Skull cap, nice sounding bell, American 
flag, sporting men's equipments, balls, bats, football, 
golf sticks, bird cage, dog and cat. Gangway to 
steamship that the people go up in the last Act, when 
they start for Europe. 



A CHILDLESS HOME 



ACT I. 

SCENE — Laid at a time ten year previous. A country 
liorne on the Atlantic Coast, a young couple about 
to depart for the West from the lady^s home, where 
she tvas 'married, leaves a consist and her hushand, 
and an uncle, an old man. 

Uncle Silas. {Arising from an easy chair says), 
It is terrible to think that fellow from the Pacific 
Coast came, won and married my niece, and is now 
going to take her away where I may never see her 
again, away to a new life, a life of wealth, new con- 
ditions and thoughts. I hope for the best, but I am 
an old man and in my time things moved slow to 
what they do now and I have seen many and different 
kinds of changes for different people. What this fast 
future will bring forth to people individually or col- 
lectively, is a doubtful dream. Well, here they come 
now. I have no more time to soliloquize on events. 

{Parties come singing-. ''We are coming, we are 
coming, if will say we may.") 

l^NCLE Silas. Come right in, children. I am alone. 

May. Oh, Dear Uncle; don't look so blue. 

Uncle Silas. It is impossible to look otherwise 
when I feel so about loosing my little girl. 

May. But, Uncle, Henry is so good, and I love him 
so. We will be so happy, unless we think of you back 
here sad and lonesome-like, then we will be unhappy. 
Come now. Dear Uncle, please do not make us un- 
happy, will you? 

Uncle Silas. Oh ! you little lawyer, you could win 
any case. You are a care-free, bright, pure little soul, 
o'oodness will be wherever you are. 



8 A CHILDLESS HOME 

May. That's a good, Dear Uncle. I will think of 
you so much and write so often. Henry wants to talk 
to you for a while so I will leave you and talk to Lou. 

Henry. Yes, Uncle, I want to tell you again of 
my respect and regard for you and your people, that 
I appreciate my wdfe so much, and consider her a 
gem of the purest ray. 

Uncle Silas. Very good, Henry, I wish you every 
happiness that mortal is entitled to, and that you and 
3^our wdfe may have a long and loving life. 

Henry. Thank you. Uncle, and I hope we will 
deserve all you wish. In our home country everything 
is very cosmopolitan, but we will be very exclusive, 
and I have the wealth to supply many wants that go 
to make one happy, don't you think we ought to make 
life a success? 

Uncle Silas. I hope so, Henry, but w^ealth is all 
right, yet the greatest happiness the world ever knew 
had nothing to do with w^ealth in my time, but do not 
think, dear boy, I am giving you a lecture, for I never 
had but one lecture to give and that was to everybody, 
' ' be good, ' ' for that is the only way to live. 

Henry. Yes, but so many have different ideas of 
good, how is one to know? 

Uncle Silas. Oh! they will find out at the end, 
if not before. 

Uncle Silas. Girls, may we have a little music to 
liven up the last moments of Henry and May with us ? 

(Pleasant songs, popular or otherwise follow.) 

Henry. We have stayed as long as we can, part- 
ing is hard, but I see no other way. We will bid 
Uncle good-bye, for he is not able to go and see us off. 

May. Dear Uncle, Good-bye ! 

Uncle Silas. God bless you, children ! 

Uncle Silas. (To audience) -. I hope their path 
will be ever smooth and not down hill, time wall tell. 



curtain. 



ACT 11. 

SCENE laid at the present time. A lady, plainly 
dressed, with three or more children cannot get 
lodging, starts to lay down in the street to rest, as 
the curtain rises a policeman comes and moves them. 
A park is next to the street and the lady attempts 
to go in the park and the park policeman drives 
her away. 

Police. What are you preparing to do now? 

Lady. I am making a bed in the street for my lit- 
tle ones so that they might sleep and get rest. 

Police. Well, stop it before you begin, and 
move on. 

Lady. Oh, please let us sleep here, no one will rent 
us a room or give us accommodations, they all seem 
so afraid of children, they would let me in, but they 
cannot tolerate children. 

Police. You can not stay here, that's all there is 
to it. I have strict orders not to allow the street to 
be blocked. 

Lady. But we will not interfere with traffic, and 
will take up no more room than we can possibly help. 

Police. No, you won't, my orders, I know my or- 
ders and I will obey orders, and those children are 
out after hours. 

Lady. Take us to the station, then, we will have 
shelter. 

Police. No, I won't, and you can't sleep here, 
either. 

Lady. That is a predicament ; we can not stay out 
nor can we get in. 

Police. Here comee a gentleman, I will refer your 
case to him. (Police says:) Good evening, Sir, here 
is a lady in trouble, could you give her any advice ? 

Richard Rich. (A gentleman.) What is it, my 
kind lady, I may be able to help you. 



10 A CHILDLESS HOME 

Lady. I hope you can {gentleman starts to offer 
money.) No, we do not need your money, we are not 
beggars. I can not find a place in the city where they 
will take me and my children in. 

Richard Rich. Ah, yes, the children, people do 
object to children, they are a little out of my line. I 
may not be able to help you. 

Lady. What, have you no children ? 

Richard Rich. No, Lady, I am a respectable 
bachelor. 

Lady. Allow me the honor of shaking hands with 
a respectable bachelor. 

Richard Rich. But, mind you, I was not under 
oath when I said ''I was respectable." 

Lady. No, that is so, it might have made no dif- 
ference if you were. 

Richard Rich. Tut, tut, tut, Lady, I see you are 
too severe in your respect and opinions of gentlemen 
and society. 

Lady. No, if I was all opinions, done nothing but 
form opinions, and, they were harder than diamonds, 
they would not do justice to many so-called gentle- 
men and much of society, and as for respecting many, 
many of them any one who aspires to a pure mind, 
body and soul never thinks of that. 

Richard Rich. (It is too much for him, he goes 
aivay shaking hands and head.) 

Police. Well, you bluffed him off, but you won't 
get rid of me so easy. 

Lady. No, I know your size. Here is $5 to arrest 
us for blocking the traffic, disturbing the peace, burg- 
lary, arson, murder, or any charge you prefer to put 
against us. 

Police. What, what, what, a bribe to get in jail, 
I never had such an experience before, are you not 
aware it is a serious offense for an officer to accept 
a bribe ? 

Lady. Yes, if it is not big enough or you get 
found out. 



A CHILDLESS HOME 1 1 

Police. Yes, to get down to business, I could not 
take you to jail, it would be my finish; you see the 
inmates of the jail must have consideration, the law, 
society, the whole public, owes them a debt. There is, 
for instance, the poor tramp who leaves the road for 
a rest, the unlucky burglar or highwayman, bigamist, 
absconders, embezzlers, many from our best society, 
of the land must not have their peace of mind dis- 
turbed by children, and then there is murderers row, 
all the ladies who care to bring them flowers and pre- 
sents, would be shocked if they saw children. 

Lady. You have consideration for every one but 
children. I will stay right here until I can get in 
some place. 

Police. Don't try it. Lady, because if I have to 
I will have the Fire Department, Garbage Wagons 
and all the City 's Automobiles, and they have a string 
that reaches from First Street to Twenty-fifth Street, 
come along here and run over you and you will be 
flattened as thin as a pancake, and if there is enough 
of you left you will get in somewhere, in the Morgue, 
Cemetery or Newspapers. 

Lady. You are as brutal as some of the best so- 
ciety. Come, children, we will go in the Park. 

Park Police. No, you don't come in here, get 
right out of here. Keep off the grass. No one is al- 
lowed in the Park at night. 

Lady. Be human, man, you have heard and seen 
what a position we are in, please let us rest here, my 
children are tired out. (Sohs.) 

Park Police. Why do you have children, then? 

Lady. Is it a crime to have children? 

Park Police. No, Lady, that is our rulers have 
never made a law to that effect, but it is an unwritten 
lav\' of a great many that it is a terrible thing to have 
chidren, but if it was a crime many of our best so- 
ciety people would not be liable ; it is not the fashion 
and why should you persist in being out of style ? 

Lady. Because it is God's law! If you are human 
vou will understand that. If you are as good as the 



12 A CHILDLESS HOME 

brutes of the field you will understand it is nature's 
law, even the trees and flowers live not in vain, but 
love life and give life, look at the beautiful flowers in 
blossom, and trees in leaf bearing seed, and enjoy 
the beauties of nature and you think mankind should 
be inferior to the beasts of the field or vegetation ! 

Park Police. Well, you will get out of here if I 
have to turn the hose on you, go before you get a 
wetting. 

{Lady's Husband comes.) 

Lady. Oh ! William, have you found a place where 
we may go? 

Husband. No, dear, there is one resort left, that is 
go and see your cousin, and if she will not take you in 
we will take a ship to Australia where our race and 
children are welcome. 

Lady. What! leave our country? (Sobs.) 

Husband. No, Dear, our country has left us, and 
I hope they may never regret it. 



CURTAIN, 



13 



ACT III. 

SCENE laid at the present time. An elegant drawing 

room, with a wing off containing pets, the more the 

better, parrot, poodle dog, pug dog, cat, snake, 

guinea pig, monkey, etc. A man and wife, Henry 

and May, ten years after marriage. 

Henry. The family all seem to be feeling pretty 
goodj does the Doctor come often to see them? 

May. (Seated despondent like.) He is here every 
day and says they are all perfectly well. 

Henry. I think that I will have to get a trainer 
for Jocko, he is getting quite cross, he bit at me and 
I believe if he could have got hold of me he would 
tried to eat me up. 

May. Yes, I noticed he was getting cross and I 
spoke to the Doctor about it. 

Henry. What did he say was the cause of his 
vicious nature ? 

JMay. Oh, nothing much, only high living and no 
occupation. 

Henry. And Polly, she used to be such a nice 
spoken-kind of a bird and now her language is some- 
thing awful, how has she learned it? 

May. She has not been out of the house since she 
came. 

Henry. The snake is a beauty, I think a lot of him 
and it is really too bad I have not found a name for 
him yet, I have been wanting to name him after some 
great personality, but I can not decide who to give the 
honor to. xAfter a little silence.) Why are you so 
quiet this evening, May? 

i\lAY. I had a from Cousin Lou some time ago 
stating that Uncle was dead and they had a large 
family of children and that conditions were bad for 
children there now, and they were coming to this 
coast for the benefit of the children. 



14 A CHILDLESS HOME 

Henry. She will think she. is out of her element 
when she gets here. ::::'; 

May. I did not answer her leiter, and today I re- 
ceived a telegram that she would arrive in this city 
today and told me the train she was coming on, so 
that if I cared I could meet her, I did not go, I did 
not dare, coward that I am, afraid of a child for fear 
that the innocence of the children, with their deep 
perception, could see no good in me and would be 
afraid of me ; to think that I would ever fail to reach 
out a welcome to my dear cousin that is all good- 
ness. I reared by her father and would have been 
in want, only for their care, their home was opened 
to me when I was a little orphan girl and such a 
happy home, the innocence of our childhood. {After 
a little pause.) Henry, you know all children are 
largely good and it seems a pity so many lose their 
innocent ways when they become grown and strong, 
if they retained their goodness when they got their 
strength the world would surely be worth living in. 

Henry. You are too much of a philosopher for 
me when you get to talking like that, and it is out of 
date, any way. You done right in not bringing your 
cousin here with a pack of kids. I hate kids. 

Henry. {Looking at his watch.) Oh! My it is 
getting late and I have an appointment at the club. 

May. I thought you was going to stay at home 
with me to-night. 

PIenry. I promised some friends that I would 
sure be down to-night and it would not do to disap- 
point them. Now, dear, don't be lonesome, amuse 
yourself any way you like for I will be detained, you 
know a gentleman must have his social chums if he 
wants to stay in the swim. 

May. Yes, you are detained so much, I see so lit- 
tle of you that I fear that I am not much to you, 
that if I was no more you would not miss me, that 
no one, much, would miss me. 

Henry. Noav, I do not like to see you that way, 
think of all you have to make you happy and tell me 



A CHILDLESS HOME 15 

of any thing money can buy that will make you happy 
and you shall have it. 

May. Yes, money bought happiness, you are good 
that way, forgive me for boring you. For you and 
I know we are just as we are and what we are sup- 
posed to be to fill the high station in life that our 
wealth permits us to occupy, but do please forgive me 
if I do chafe under the Wrden of being a society 
lady. 

Henry. Certainly, little girl, you will come 
around all right; now there is Mrs. Spinks, she is 
the one to cure you of the blues and help you on in 
aristocratic ways. Now, Dearie, I must go, ta, ta. 

May. Good-bye, Dear! (Walks to one side.) That 
is a fine excuse of a man and husband, cold as ice, 
just called me ''dear" once and months has passed 
since he done that much. I might as well get as reck- 
less and worthless as him, and I will have to or I 
will go mad. So here goes, I will telephone for Mrs. 
Spinks and we will have high jinks (telephones) . Is 
that you, Mrs. Spinks, can you come over? Hub was 
home and has gone for an indefinite period and I 
think I will take your advice and cut loose, let the 
world go, it is all a muddle anyhow, it is set for a 
bust and we might as well hurry it up. (Rings one 
hell. Sing comes.) Sing, Mrs. Spinks is coming. 
(Sing brings in bottles of liquor, May takes two 
drinks then rings tivo bells and Miko comes.) Miko, 
]Mrs. Spinks is coming. (Miko bows and brings in a 
big package of cigarettes and a light; May lights one 
and smokes, then rings three bells and Sam comes.) 

Sam. Going to have high jinks, I will bet. 

May. Sam, Mrs. Spinks is coming and we must 
not be disturbed. I am at home to no one, you un- 
derstand ? Have a drink, Sam ! 

Sam. I sure does, Miss. You just do look sweet. 
(Comes nearer admiringly.) 

IMay. Now, be a good boy and go and watch that 
we are not surprised. Mrs. Spinks will soon be here 
and we will ring for you after awhile. 



16 A CHILDLESS HOME 

Sam. You won't disappoint me, will you. 

May. No, Sam, good boy, we will ring. Oh, come 
right in IMrs. Spinks, it did not take you long to get 
here. 

i\lRS. Spinks. Yes, dear, I came as quick as I could. 
You have been feeling bad, but w^e will have some fun 
now. {May pours out two glasses of liquor, they both 
drink and then smoke.) Did you have a spat with 
your husband? 

May. No, we never row, a being like him hasn't 
force enough in his nature to row with anyone, or 
rule himself or any one else a little bit, so how could 
you row with him or respect him? 

Mrs. Spink. My dear, it is not necessary to respect 
him to have a good time, you would be surprised to 
know how many ladies do not love or respect their 
husbands, and when you get initiated you will enjoy 
life if your husband comes through with the coin. 

May. I expect I will, but it has been a hard strug- 
gle for me so far. T had ideals, the name "man" 
used to have great significance to me; I thought the 
one I would call my own would be higher than the 
brute creation, that he would command me and I 
could respect him. 

Mrs. Spinks. You are getting too deep, take a 
drink and learn to forget it. {Both drink.) 

May. That is what I want to go under your care 
for, is to forget it. 

]\Irs. Spinks. Yes, but you will have to love some- 
body or some thing, don't you think you love your 
husband ? 

I\Iay. Not much now. If I dare to speak of any- 
thing that is not base and vulgar, I am getting too 
religious, if I ever get fond of him, I am getting too 
sentimental. He has driven all that was good out of 
my^ nature. But if I want to rule him, to gratify any 
vanity, he is like putty in my hands, the man whom 
a woman can love must rule and deserve respect. Oh ! 
forget it, it is a dry subject ; take a drink. 



A CHILDLESS HOME 17 

Mrs. Spinks. You might love some of your hus- 
band's pets, he calls them part of the family. 

May. No, it would need humans to claim my af- 
fection yet for awhile. 

Mrs. Spinks. Well, there is the servants, Sing, 
Miko, and Sam. 

May. (Laughs.) Ah! The dear boys, don't men- 
tion it. Hub is good in getting me such servants, he 
can't make love to them and I can, he calls them boys, 
but I think they are men, we are too rich to be respect- 
able. Oh, Hub is a sport, he told me before I ever 
side-stepped; Go it, old girl, it is a race we are 
matched and mated, two of a kind. He does not care 
and what right has he, for where is he now and what 
do I care? 

May. (To Sam.) What is it Sam? 

Sam. a lady with a lot of children is out in the 
street, and I told her you were not at home and she 
said you would be if I told you it was your cousin Lou 
and her children. 

J\Iay. Oh, oh oh, Mrs. Spink, what will I do. 

Mrs. Spinks. You are not at home, of course, 
stick to it. 

^Iay. Sam, tell the lady I am not at home, to 
think it would ever come to this. 

Mrs. Spinks. Cheer up, dear, face it bravely ! 

May. Cowardly, you mean, but face it I will. 
(Both quiet, May feels had.) What is it now, Sam? 

Sam. They are real nice children mam, and the 
lady said if you was her Cousin ]\Iay you would re- 
ceive her, that no one will give her shelter, and they 
will not allow her to rest in the street. 

]\Iay. Tell her I am not her Cousin May, that it is 
ridiculous and out of style to have children, that none 
of my relations ever had any children. (May takes it 
hard, Mrs. Spi7iks gives her a drink.) There, I feel 
better now, it would not do to let my cousin and her 
children in here. 

]\fRS. Spinks. No. it is not likely they are in our sta- 
tion in life. 



18 A CHILDLESS HOME 

May. It is not likely they are, but 1 wish I was in 
their station in life, they have noble thoughts and 
honest toil, kindly words and friendly smile. That is 
what makes life worth while. Oh, what I am, what 
might have been, if I had an infant of my own, so 
that I could have looked in its little eyes and seen 
the way to heaven, to seen it smile at me and know 
there was one in this world that had real, honest love 
for me, or if it was sick tenderness or love might grow 
in me while I was nursing it back to health and I 
would have to forget myself. 

Mrs. Spinks. Please listen to me (co)nmandingly) . 

May. What is it, then? {pauses a little). 

Mrs. Spinks. I came over to cheer you up and I 
am going to do it. You are here with nothing to 
trouble you, so don't borrow trouble, see? 

May. Yes. 

Mrs. Spinks. Take a drink then and be a lady. 
Cheer up, you are of the upper ten, enjoy life, don't 
think of the sad if the bad is good, let us be happy 
and gay, for we are creatures of little use and quite 
a lot in the way. 

May. You are quite a philosopher. You are right, 
every thing is set for a bust and you might as well 
try to bale the Pacific Ocean with teaspoon as to try 
and prevent it. 

Mrs. Spinks. That's what I want to impress on 
you is, why be serious? Leave that to the common 
people, we are able to have a good time and do as we 
please ; seek amusement where it may be found. Now 
who do you think is the prettiest of your servants? 
(JoJdngly.) 

May. {Laughs.) I know, you want to know wlio 
I love the most, don't you? 

Mrs. Spinks. That's not fair, you answer ray ques- 
tion by asking another, but I realy would like to 
know your favorite, so I might know who was left 
for me to smile on. 

May. If that is what is bothering you. take your 
choice, I am not hard to please. 



A CHILDLESS HOME 19 

Mrs. Spinks. I see, you love your husband better 
than any servant yet. 

May. {Angrily.) I refute the charge, a reflection 
on my good judgment. I'm not wasting any affec- 
tion on a moral, mental and physical weakling, whose 
wealth has produced vanity, the parent of all evils, 
vice, degradation and crime. I challenge you for a 
duel for your bad opinion of me, choose your weapon! 
{She readies for a sword.) 

Mrs. Spinks. Do I have to fight ? 

May. Most decidedly, yes ! 

Mrs. Spinks. These will do, they won't hurt so 
bad. {Boxing gloves, May wins after a short bout.) 

May. You had enough? 

Mrs. Spinks. Yes, you are the best man. 

May. Shake, and let's have a drink. 

Mrs. Spinks. Gee ! I am hungry. 

May. Say, you mongolian beauties, are we ever 
going to have any supper? {Rings — Sing comes.) 

May. How about something to eat? 

Sing. Yes. Missis supper leady. 

May. Bring Miko, ladies like an escort to supper. 

(Mrs. Spink and May are pretty drunk, Sing takes 
one and Miko the other and goes into the dining 
room. Orchestra starts to play a little and Sam comes. 
Music stops.) 

Sam. {Comes in pretty cross.) Dey am flown. I 
didn't hear my bell, if it had been rung I sure would 
have heard it, ah, tell you, something would have been 
doing. Tell you I ain't going to stand it. {Pulls 
out an enormoiis large razor.) Dease Asiatics taking 
all the work away from the American people, don't 
give a poor culed man a show, I is wild. {Listens at 
dining-room door.) I's just going in dar. {He goes 
in and there is a terrible racket and screams. It is 
quiet for a while and then Sam comes out with Miko 
and Singes heads and throws them on the floor.) Well, 
I done gone and done it. {Takes a big drink. .Puts 
heads doivn and they start to roll.) Say, there, will 
I have to kill you again? Well, this is a fine place, 



20 A CHILDLESS HOME 

all nice aristocratics live along this row, not a chick 
of a child to disturb anything or muss it up and make 
a disturbance. (The heads on the floor moves at 
same time and Sam says:) Lay still there, will I 
have to kill you again? Well, if I do swing for it 
and go to hell, ah will meet a lot of nice aristocratic 
people (takes another drink). When I drink that 
Chinese whiskey it makes me sleepy, so I think I will 
take a little repose after this recreation. (Sam lays 
down to sleep a moment or two, lights are lowered 
and a gallows is pushed on to the stage with a negro 
hanging, and a Japanese on one side and a Chinaman 
on the other side as spirits. Sam juynps up in fright.) 
Oh, good Lord, sabe me, sabe me. Oh, good devil 
sabe me (great fright) save dis nigger. 



CURTAIN. 



21 



ACT IV. 

SCENE laid ten years later. A good respectable par- 
lor, not too richly furnished; a married lady, named 
Margaret, taking a siesta. Some one rings repeat- 
edly and comes in. It is a young man of nice ap- 
pearance, he ivalks up to the couch and lays his 
hand on the lady's head and the lady does not 
awake, he walks away and says-. 
She must be seeing a vision. 

After a few seconds Margaret awakes .and set us 
saying : 

Oh, brother, I am so glad you came, 
Harold. And I am glad I am here, but it is too 
bad to disturb your siesta. 

Margaret. Don't mention it, you know you are 
always welcome. Were you here long before I knew? 
Harold. Not a great while. Where is Albert and 
the children? 

Margaret. Albert is working, and the children 
went to the Park for the afternoon. Children are like 
people, they must have healthy amusements and oc- 
cupations and then they are little trouble. But, oh, 
Harold! I had such a strange vision just before you 
came. 

Harold. What was it about, sister? 
Margaret. It was about the dark past when con- 
ditions were such that only the bad qualities of man- 
kind were brought out. It was in the age of Greed 
for Wealth when financial gluttens ceased to enjoy 
life and would allow no one else to and selfishness and 
vanity w^as all that was of importance to many. Race 
suicide became the style, and only for the great awak- 
ening that took place our fair country, and all the 
generations of toil it took to make it, would have been 
lost to the white race. 

Harold. Would you please produce the vision for 
me? 



22 A CHILDLESS HOME 

Margaret. I will produce that portion tiiat is 
good for you to see, the last part that our country 
would have come to had they not come to their senses. 

(Harold lays on the couch, Margaret puts her cap 
071 his head, the lights lower a little and Margaret 
strikes some sweet sounding little hells and a mixed 
troupe comes on the stage, Mexicans, Indians, Hin- 
doos, Chinese, Negro and Japanese in general uni- 
form and sword.) 

Japanese. Fellow citizens, now that we are master 
of this country what will we do with the remnants of 
a once powerful, energetic and proud nation, they 
gave themselves over to pleasure and dwelt carelessly. 
Had they family pride and enjoyed seeing vigorous 
children around their fireside, had they patriotism, 
honor and less graft, had their conceit not made them 
stupid or insane, what has happened and is going to 
happen today, would not have taken place, there 
gentlemen, give me your opinions. 

Chinaman, {steps out) They hath preached the 
doctrine of the survival of the fittest, they hath 
ba?bled, the earth is his that will make the best of it. 
Ah, when it is taken home to ones self it comes with 
sorry welcome to those who have the misfortune to 
live to see where they were beat in the race, so let us 
end it by pulling out their tongues by the roots so 
that they will tell no more lies. 

Indian {steps out). When my race was crowded 
westward by the strong pale face, we stopped at times, 
sometimes to their sorrow, but more times to our sor- 
row. Ever onward toward the setting sun we were 
forced to go, but a small voice told us that as the 
penlulum of a clock swings so far past the center, 
sometimes it would have to swing back, and swing 
back very suddenly if new life w^as not added suf- 
ficiently or that life not up to the proper standard, 
that time has come so let us take off their scalps like 
my forefathers and hang them to our belt for an 
ornament, and leave the coyote to eat the body. 

Hindoo {steps out). They have looked upon us as 



A CHILDLESS HOME 23 

inferior beings, men of my race wlio have countless 
generations of civilization and reincarnation of many 
great men, we with our great numbers were tied 
with a few weak strings and did not know our weak- 
ness until the unfortunates we now have captives 
showed us their weakness, so let us blind their eyes 
with red hot irons and let them go forth that they 
may wander on and think many times before death 
relieves them of their miseries. 

Mexican {steps out). Might is not right. I have 
often heard the white race say, but in practice it does 
not always prove out that way. We were foolish, 
they were wise, we were weak, they were strong, but 
in forgetting the secret of that strength the tables 
turn, the home, the fireside, that great source of 
strength, fails to get that new life, the nation weakens 
like a field of grain blighted {draws a big knife). Let 
us cut off their heads, so we may have their skulls 
for ornaments and the vultures may pick their bones. 

Negro {steps out). There is little more that can be 
said if it is, it will be sad. When the lion draws his 
own teeth and breaks off his claws he is easy con- 
quered. When waters cease to come down the stream, 
the old mill wheel stops, a peaceful, reposeful, but 
powerless condition. It can stand for awhile on the 
merits of its past deed, but they are poor strength to 
combat the live forces that will arise against it, so, 
therefore, let us make slaves of them like they did of 
my race, have them hoe the corn, pick the cotton, 
drive the mules and shine our boots. 

Japanese. Very good, gentlemen, no two can 
agree. I will decide the question, and as you know 
now, many wise men could see a long time ago that 
when my nation would speak, the world would think. 
Be not too hard, gentlemen, we are strong and power- 
ful today, as they were once and history tells us many 
more before them were great, back toward the rising 
sun, step by step, each step representing a great na- 
tion. Rome, Greece, Macedonia, Jerusalem, Assyria, 
Babylon, Egypt, and many others, to the first scribe 



24 A CHILDLESS HOME 

we have any knowledge of, each in their turn power- 
ful, and they conquered themselves by bad conditions 
that grew up among them. They claim to be of the 
European race, we will load them on a ship and send 
them to Europe and let their race see what a nation 
can come to that has no young manhood to defend it. 
Banzi. 

Negro. That's right, let them race right back to 
Europe, it am no longer a question if this is a white 
man's country. 

Chinaman. Open their prison gates and drive 
them aboard the ship. 

{Oldens gates and drives a lot of old people, crip- 
ples, dudes, hall players with pets in their arms, and 
an old soldier with the flag done up with a piece of 
crepe arouiid it. They march up a gang plank, the 
lights get very low and colored, races leave, and lights 
are turned on fidl force. Harold comes to.) 

Margaret. What do you think of it? 

Harold. Isn't it good, it is only a dream? 

Albert White {comes in) Good evening, Harold. 
(and Margaret greets him afectionately.) 

Harold, {greets Albert kindly). Good evening. 

Albert. Been practising black art? 

Harold. Yes, for a white purpose. 

Margaret. Wliat kept you so late, Albert? 

Albert. I was looking for trouble. You see we 
have arrived at a condition nearly perfect, as far as 
one individual wronging another, it is nearly past. 
I had an ad. in the paper for any one in trouble and 
I could find none, every one is enjoying life as far as 
human power can make it. 

{Children comes in and is welcomed hy Albert, 
Margaret and Harold.) 

Albert. Did you have a good time this afternoon, 
children? {Little girl) We had such a splendid time, 
singing and playing games and running races. {Small 
hoy speaks up) And we had such lot of good things 
to eat too. 



A CHILDLESS HOME 25 

]\1argaret. Was there many children there? 
{Large girl) Oh, there was thousands of girls. {Boy) 
There were more boys than girls. {Larger girl) How 
do you know, did you count them? {Boy) No, I didn't 
if 1 had it would have took a month, but there was the 
Boy Scouts, Navy Boys, Industrials, all the grades 
])oth big and small and many more. {Larger girl) I 
think there was more girls than boys, because our 
teacher tells us there is more women than men. I be- 
lieve the reason why is, they are more of a success 
than men. {Boy) She is bound to have the last word. 
{Larger girl) And, oh! the babies at the baby show, 
nearly every woman in the city had a baby there and 
they all took a prize, and each mother took two 
prizes. {Another girl) All the boys and girls pledged 
themselves that they would grow up good, and be 
useful men and women. 

Harold. Who won the prize for the most patriotic 
speech this afternoon, Willie. 

Willie. {Points) Bert did. 

Albert. Show us the prize, Bert, and tell us what 
you said? 

Bert. {Goes out and gets a nice flag and says:) 
This is the prize, and what I said was, give the com- 
mon people's children a show, and there would al- 
ways be some one to defend Old Glory. In all nations 
at all times there has been people of a non-progressive 
nature, who, though not always of a malicious nature 
were a detriment to humanity. Our duty to human- 
ity, both present and future, requires us to improve 
our standard in all lines, then as a nation we can 
consider we are advancing in wealth, for the only 
time when a nation is great is when it is composed 
of people of the proper standard, but when it starts 
on the downward grade it is on the road to oblivion. 
Justice that is justice, liberty in reality as well as 
name, a proper understanding as who we are, and 
what our duty to our nation is, will be a true solution 
to any troubles that are or may arise. 

CURTAIN. 



JUL O VM 

UIBRftRV OF CONGRESS 



HI 



016 103 512 9 



